It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Changes the Rules
by satanslut
Summary: *Set during Something Blue* Willow's on her way home from the Bronze, and all set to do that spell to have her will done, when an attack of responsibility hits and she heads to Giles's place to help out with the truth spell instead. Things don't quite work out as planned.


It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Changes the Rules

"99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, if one of those bottles should happen to fall, 97…" Willow stopped singing for a moment as she tried to remember what came after… how many bottles of beer were there, anyway? And did you really need more than, say, 10? This song was way too complicated. Good thing spells weren't complicated at all, because she'd been on her way back to the dorm when she remembered that she'd been supposed to do a truth spell on Spike for Giles. So here she was, Old Reliable, on her way to Giles's place to make poopy old Spike spill his guts, when all she really wanted to do was go back to the dorm and try out this _other_ neat spell she'd found to make her will be done… oh, and then maybe sleep. All that dancing at the Bronze had sure made her tired.

But she was a dutiful doormat-dog-geyser-person, so she knocked on Giles's door twice and then walked in. "I'm here," she called out. "I'm ready to do the spell." Then she tripped over the edge of a rug and nearly fell down.

"You're not doin' any spell on me in that condition. Turn me into a stink beetle or something." Spike was tied to a chair in the living room. What was Spike doing in the living room?

"Why aren't you in the bathtub?"

"Watcher said he wanted to shower without an audience. Pity that. Haven't had a peek at anything naked in… weeks."

Okay… Spike wanted to see Giles naked? She'd have said 'ewww' except she'd sort of had a crush on Giles back in her sophomore year. Plus… it was sort of sexy. But wait a minute… "I don't hear the shower."

"That's 'cause he already finished. And left. Think he went out in the hopes of pulling some lady… or bloke, you can never be sure. Took a guitar case. Always a good trick. "

Huh? Pulling…? She was confused, but knowing Spike's penchant for making people feel bad, she decided to just nod and pretend like she knew what he meant. Buffy and Xander had already sucked all the joy out of her evening. She didn't need Spike sucking… Oh god. She shouldn't have used that word, because now she had a vision of Spike all naked between her legs and… Was it hot in here?

Oh great. Spike's nostrils just flared and he smirked at her. "Guess I'm not the only one looking for a little nudity. That the reason you're soused? Out lookin' to pull something yourself? Can't imagine why you didn't succeed. You're not such a bad little piece."

Not so bad? Willow unaccountably remembered a line from some old movie where a man said that there was nothing that was quite so bad as something that was not so bad and she was about to be really offended when Spike broke through her thoughts. "Since, unlike you and the Watcher, I can't go out and get some… relief, could you at least take some pity on me and get me a drink?"

A drink? Gosh, she didn't know that vampires got thirsty. "Do you want some tea?"

He snorted, so she guessed the answer was no. "You really are in the bag, aren't ya?"

In the… ? Oh, she got it now, but he was so completely wrong. "I'm not drunk," she protested, drawing herself up so she could better look down at him. "Tipsy, maybe, but definitely not drunk."

Spike snorted again – so annoying. "Well, whatever you call it, I fancy being in the same condition. So would you do us a favour and get out the scotch? The Watcher keeps it in that corner cupboard in the kitchen."

How the heck did Spike know that? Willow decided not to think about it, instead deciding that, having tried beer, hard liquor seemed like the logical next step in her education. "Okay." Suiting the action to the tune, she went straight to the kitchen, found the scotch right where Spike said it would be – congratulating herself on thinking to look behind the baking powder she knew Giles never used – and poured two glasses. She took a sip from hers first. Mmmm. Yummy. No wonder Giles hid this stuff.

"Oi! You drinkin' it all yourself?"

Oops. She'd better get back out there. So she put the glasses and the bottle – just in case they wanted just one more sip – on a tray, then headed back out into the living room. "Here you go!" she caroled brightly. She went to hand Spike his glass and then realized… oh yeah, he was tied up. Okay. Picking up the glass she hadn't drunk from, she took it to Spike and held it to his lips. "Drink up."

He glared at her. Oops again. So she tilted it, allowing the liquid to pour into his mouth and forgetting to stop till the glass was empty. Oh gosh. Spike didn't seem to mind, though. "That hit the spot,love. Thanks. For a pathetic wanker, your Watcher's got right fine taste in scotch."

It seemed to Willow like she was forgetting something – defending Giles, maybe? – but it probably didn't matter, seeing as how it was just her and Spike here and it wasn't like she could make him see her side of things, so she decided to just take another sip of her scotch. Boy was this stuff good. Now she could see why Giles hid it. "Toss it back," Spike chided her. "This isn't tea, y'know. No chance to feel the buzz the way you're sippin' it." She'd have been offended – again – but as a student she had to acknowledge that Spike knew a lot more about alcohol than she did so she might as well learn from him.

So she did as she was told and… wow, yeah, she could really feel it this way. Whoa. The ceiling was all spinny… so was her head. She stumbled again and had to grab the table to keep from falling on her butt.

And Spike was laughing at her. "You're the best entertainment I've had in a long time. Even better than _Passions_."

Okay, that was it. She was now officially not going to stop herself from being offended. "If that's the way you're gonna be, I'll just put the scotch away and go home."

The look of anguish on Spike's face made her giggle. "Now, now. Didn't mean it like that. You're just cute when you let your hair down and stop being such a goody two shoes, that's all."

He called her cute? As much as she knew he was totally lying just to get another drink, it felt kind of nice to have a boy tell her she was cute. So she poured Spike another glass and served it to him, entranced by the look of bliss on his face as he drained it. Was this what he looked like when he was draining… Wow. That was kind of morbid there, Rosenberg.

Then again, how else was she supposed to feel? Her guy was gone forever. "Oz left," she said softly. "His things are gone. He's never coming back."

"No offense pet, but you had to expect that." Huh? She was about to get _really_ offended – and possibly cry – when Spike continued. "Werewolves are bloody stupid. Big bags of fur and muscle without a brain or heart to speak of. Sniffin' after every bitch in heat… Not worth anything except as a rug for the fireplace. You're well rid of him, I'd say. Bet you're already savin' a fortune in flea powder and rabies vaccinations."

As much as her heart still ached for the very bag of fur Spike was disparaging so casually, Willow couldn't help laughing. It felt good to have someone talk to her without rolling their eyes and acting like they'd rather be anywhere but where she was. Soon, though, the laughter stopped and all she could see was Oz's empty room.

Guess she'd been quietly morose for kind of a while because she heard Spike snort again. "This party's a downer. Give us another drink, would ya?"

"Sorry," she offered, hastily pouring another drink, which Spike downed appreciatively. She poured another one for herself and drank it down. It didn't make her feel as good as the earlier one had. Why was that?

"Not much of a hostess, are you?" Guess she'd gone quiet again.

"Sorry," she said again. "I'm not much good at being a social director." She tried to think of what people enjoyed doing while drinking… besides the obvious, because… Spike. "We could play a game."

He snorted – and boy was she getting tired of that – but then he asked, "What sort of game do you have in mind?" punctuating his question with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Oh god. Now she was on the spot, because she hadn't actually had a game in mind when… Oh! She remembered one! "How about Truth or Dare?"

Yet another darn snort. He was such a poophead. "Not much fun with only two people, pet. 'Specially when one of 'em is tied to a bloody chair." He had a point, huh? She tried to come up with a better idea, but then his eyes narrowed and he said, " 'Course, you could always untie me. We could play the game good and proper then."

Yeah right. "I'm not drunk, Spike. Just ships…tipsy." She reddened. "Okay, maybe I'm drunk, but not _that_ drunk." She really _was_ drunk, though, which made her realize that she better get back to the dorm while she still could. But first, she better clean up the evidence of her crime. Gathering the bottle, glasses, and tray, she headed back into the kitchen.

Spike protested loudly. "What the…? Party was just getting started!"

It took Willow only a moment to rinse the glasses and put everything away. "It wasn't much of a party. You said so yourself."

"Hadn't had time to get going yet, that's all."

She shook her head and slipped her purse strap back over her shoulder. "I have to go. I shouldn't be here when Giles gets home."

"Oh c'mon. You can't just leave me. We never even played a round of Truth or Dare."

For a moment, Willow saw a flash of something very familiar on Spike's face. It was the same thing she saw every time she looked in the mirror. Oh god… Spike was lonely. Just like her. "Okay, one round. Then I really have to get home."

"Me first," Spike said, clearly not opening the matter for discussion. "I dare you to… show me what Dogboy's missing."

What? "I'm supposed to have a choice between truth or dare. The rules…"

Spike looked at her in confusion. "Where I come from, the rules say the other party gets to choose which you do."

Really? She tried to see deception on his face, but he looked completely innocent, so… Okay, she guessed she'd play by British rules. But… "What do you mean?"

_Now_ his expression turned sly. "Surely you're not that innocent. Let me spell it out for ya. I – want – you – to – give – me…"

Willow reddened as Spike's leer made his intentions crystal clear. "Hold on! I am so not having sex with you!"

He chuckled. "Nice as that would be – and I wouldn't say no if you offered – all I asked for was a taste. A little something to let me see just what a pathetic tosser that mutt really is." His stare grew lustful. "C'mon, love. Don't be shy. We both know you've more than got the goods. Let ol' Spike sample the wares, eh?"

"O –okay," she agreed timorously, leaving her purse on the couch and tentatively walking up to the chair. "What should I…?" That was the question of the century.

"Give us a lap dance."

A what? Oh gosh. She was ashamed to admit this, but… "I've never given a lap dance."

Spike closed his eyes and hissed. "Werewolves - pah. No imagination. Just in and out like rabbits, that bunch. Not a bit of appreciation for the art of it all." He opened his eyes, fixing a gentle, coaxing expression on her. "I'll teach ya. Bet you're a quick learner. C'mon." He cocked his head in invitation and…

Boy, she was really, really drunk, because the next thing you know, she had her legs on either side of Spike's chair and… yeah, she was on his lap. "Do what feels right," he instructed, and she began to move – awkwardly at first, but then she seemed to be getting the hang of it because not only did _she_ feel good, but Spike was… "Bloody hell. That wanker had no... Yeah, love, like that. Just like that." Then he was moaning, head thrown back, eyes rolled back, lost in what she was doing.

Willow wasn't really paying much attention though, because she was getting a little bit… okay, a _lot_ lost in what she was doing herself. Oh god. Her whole body… shuddering and biting her lip to stay quiet, she came.

So did Spike.

Oh no! She'd just had… okay, maybe it wasn't technically sex, but both of them had… "I have to go!" she cried and, without even looking at him, Willow gathered her purse up and ran from the apartment, not acknowledging Spike's cry of "Oi! You just gonna leave me like this?" or even considering his discomfort in wet, sticky jeans as she began the race for home.

She'd just done naughty things with Spike. With _Spike_! An evil vampire who'd tried to kill her and who didn't even like her and…

Oh well. Nobody had to know, right? Spike wouldn't want to tell anyone about it because – hey – as she'd already noted, he didn't even like her, and no way was _she_ going to tell anybody, so it was their little secret. She breathed a sigh of relief, vowing never to drink or play Truth or Dare ever again.

Lesson learned, oh was it ever, but hey - at least now, thanks to… her reaction, she was sober.

Halting in her tracks, she was suddenly hit by a wave of horror and panic. Oh no. Yes, she was sober all right and she realized - what was Giles going to think when he got home and saw what had happened to Spike?

The End.


End file.
